Beige Suits and Birthday Brunch
by Zofie C. Field
Summary: This is the first year Rachel accepted an invitation to the Annual Clone Club Birthday Brunch. Pure silliness.


**Beige Suits and Birthday Brunch**

This is the first year Rachel accepted Alison's hand-embossed invitation to the Annual Clone Club Birthday Brunch. She shows up in a beige fitted suit, with a bottle of freshly squeezed organic orange juice, promptly at 10 o'clock.

Brunch consists of scrambled eggs, pancakes, fruit salad, and a mountain of bacon. Per Clone Club tradition, everyone eats with their fingers (often off of someone else's plate) and talks loudly (often with their mouths full). Everyone except Rachel, that is. Rachel eats with a fork and a knife, napkin resting neatly in her lap. Her glass eye judges the unruly sisters throughout the meal, but they happily ignore it.

After the other four have torn into their gifts, with laughs and playful shoves, Alison pushes a small stack of packages across the table towards Rachel. Assuming no presents would be given (and not having given any herself), she looks wary.

"They're birthday presents, Proclone. You've seen a birthday present before, yeah?" Felix teases. "Tear 'em open. We're not saving the paper." This earns him an if-looks-could-kill glare from Rachel, as she reluctantly drags the first gift towards her.

The first package, wrapped in red construction paper, is from Sarah. Inside, a package of brand new yellow #8 pencils. Rachel stares at her, deadpan, and Sarah dissolves into heaves of silent, breathless laughter. "Very amusing, Sarah," Rachel says, monotone.

"Oh, Sarah," Alison frowns with completely unconvincing disapproval, "Too soon."

As she says this, Rachel opens the next gift, neatly wrapped in designer patterned paper and tied with large bow. She extracts a professional-grade pencil sharpener. Alison's frown melts into triumph, and Felix gives her a high-five across the table. "Keep those pencils sharp," she advises. "You never know when they'll come in handy."

"Children," Rachel mutters in disgust, setting aside the gag gifts and dragging the next package towards her.

Wrapped in cartoons from the newspaper, Cosima's gift is a small Nerf gun. Each foam dart has been meticulously trimmed and painted to resemble a sharpened pencil. Cosima winks at her, and Rachel pales slightly, setting the gift aside delicately with a nod.

The next is a small painted portrait of Rachel as The Mona Lisa. "I don't understand," she says flatly, eyeing the group suspiciously.

Felix grins and leans towards Sarah, saying in a stage whisper, "Get it? Because that glass eye just seems to follow you everywhere." Sarah is snorting and choking on her mouthful of cake, and Alison is trying desperately not to smile. "Felix," she admonishes, "that's not very tasteful."

Rachel rolls her eyes (well, rolls her eye) and turns to the last package.

The final gift is from Helena, who is practically shivering with anticipation. Rachel eyes the uneven bundle warily, and Helena leans forward to push it towards her. "Open it, seestra. It is part of the _inner joke."_

Sarah shakes her head in defeat, having spent the better part of the previous evening trying to explain the concept of an _inside joke_ to Helena. Cosima grins and pats her on the back. "Good try."

Rachel gingerly undoes the brown paper. Inside is a Barbie doll, in a smartly tailored suit, blond hair cropped in a neat bob. A toothpick pokes out of one eye.

Helena is bouncing in her chair, enormously pleased with herself. "Do you like it, seestra?"

Rachel looks around the table at the women who wear her face, and tries (just for brunch) to see them as sisters. They are the only family she has left, after all. She musters up a smile (deeply uncomfortable and a little disturbing, but a smile nonetheless).

"Thank you, Helena," she says, measured, "Did you cut her hair yourself?"

Helena grins, thrilled and oblivious, and Alison pushes a slice of cake towards Rachel.

"Welcome to the Clone Club, kid," Cosima says, holding her hand out and nodding meaningfully towards Rachel's fork.

Rachel considers for a moment, waivers, and then relents, surrendering the fork to Cosima. With a sigh of resignation, she plunges her fingers into the frosting and considers how on Earth she'll survive a family like this.


End file.
